The nude on this anthology's cover---although she appears able to get on the table, and is tastefully displayed in her attempt---has drawn negative commentary. Is she an underaged muse? Is she a distraction from the fine compositions she covers? Is the female form---even here? even now?---being commercially deployed? And, goodness me, what extraneous thoughts does Editor Pepple's choice bare concerning traditional form and narrative?
Friends, these reactions are tempestuous brewings in a tea party tea pot. Measured by the poem, the story, the essay or interview, the muse's voice this anthology is both readable and memorable. Enjoy it. Enjoy them. And let the lady have a body.